Deconstruction
by emilyjkelly21
Summary: This fic starts just a few days before Amelie Lacroix's abduction and shows the becoming and unbecoming of Widowmaker. I just want to forewarn you guys that whilst there is an abundance of fluff in the earlier chapters, this is a fic that is my interpretation of one of Overwatch's darkest story-lines and there are inevitably going to be darker chapters.


She stares at her blood-soaked hands with a smile across her face. The crimson liquid contrasts nicely against her porcelain skin, it contrasts even nicer with the knife which lies embedded in the body in front of her, stainless steel made impure with crimson specs there's a beautiful sort of art to it all.

Amelie Lacroix bolts upright wide-eyed, sweat drenched and short of breath. Nightmares were nothing new to her, in fact they had become a regular appearance since she'd learnt of the true nature of Gerards job. Confidentiality laws meant that she could not know of his work until after they'd wed, some honeymoon that had been. Amelie knew she was engaged to a man who carried out important work pertinent to international security, she never realised she'd be married to a man who had more blood on his hands than an entire battalion. Before meeting Gerard, Amelie had always been somewhat of a pacifist. At age 17 she remembered sneaking out of her care-home and joining a protest against the inhumane treatment of animals in slaughterhouses in Bordeaux. The brunette's eyes swept the room as she loosened her grip on the duvet, nothing was out of place and there was no-one else around except for Tubbs, their oversized ginger cat staring at her from the foot of the bed. She swung her legs around and got up, scratching Tubbs' head on the way as she began her morning routine.

She stopped her robotic routine when she saw the note on the fridge "Didn't want to disturb you, you were sleeping like a log. Work called, Tel-Aviv complications, I'll be back Thursday. I had bought us tickets to the Wednesday performance of that show you wanted to see, I'm sure you'll be able to find someone to go with. Maybe take a look at the city? Sorry about us moving about so much. - Bisous, G." attached were two tickets to see the Moscow Ballet's performance of Swan Lake at the Royal Theatre which she smiled at before turning her gaze to the calendar hung on the fridge next to the notes. Wednesday had a stick-picture illustration of Gerard's interpretation of ballet in it, bringing a smile to Amelie's face, he never was an artist. Next to it Thursday was circled and below had scrawled in Gerard's handwriting "Surprise me" a reference to the game they'd had between them of trying to surprise each other on the day of Gerard's return whenever he was called out on duty. Last time she'd spent an entire day mapping out an elaborate treasure hunt at the end of which she'd hidden a signed PSG jersey, his favourite football team. It hadn't really gone to plan though when Overwatch's top agent had successfully found the 4 letters to reveal the last location and instead of spelling LAKE, a reference to the place where they'd gotten engaged instead had spelt out KALE, and ended up ordering an unusually healthy meal at the local Restaurant and getting confused when the waiter didn't turn up with the next clue in his puzzle. A debacle which Amelie teases him about on a weekly basis. Gerard had instead gone for a much more simplistic and harder to fuck up approach of bringing Tubbs home from the local animal shelter.

Amelie had drawn out her morning routine as much as possible, even going as far as adding in a half hour gym session before showering and getting ready but as she looked at her phone she realised it was still only 5:30. She scrolled through her phone knowing only one person would be up as early as her "Hey Ang, any chance I could help out at the infirmary? coulf use the distraction" She hit send before realising and chided herself for the spelling error "Another rough night? as your doctor I really should tell you to sleep but I'm sure your stubbornness would make you stay up out of determination. Sure, but only if we can grab coffee afterwards. Doctor's orders" Amelie could read the last sentence in the doctor's voice. She set the phone down before putting her coat on, the device dinged again making the brunette jump slightly "Bring biscuits" she shook her head, sarcastically muttering "the cheek of it!" stuffing a pack of bourbons in her pocket from the cupboard and making her way out of the door.

The drive was a short one, only 10 minutes that flew by, Amelie had turned the radio up determined to make the day a good one no-matter what, by the time she'd pulled up and parked she was singing Comme des enfants at the top of her voice oblivious to the doctor stood next to her clutching an umbrella in one hand and her phone in the other, giggling innocently while the frenchwoman continued "ET IL M'AIME ENCORE, ET MOI JE T'AIME UN PEU PLUS FORT" once she'd finished she took the keys out of the ignition naively expecting an empty car-park but instead earning cheers from the doctor who couldn't clap on a part of her hands being full, causing the brunette to blush, but ever the showman she bowed as she gave Angela a hug and mildly threatening "if that video goes anywhere, I will never bring you biscuits again."  
"Scouts honor" The blonde mockingly crossed her heart. The thought of the good doctor Ziegler being in the scouts or any similar organisation amused the Brunette to no end, though she knew that the blonde was using the phrase figuratively. Angela had always been a radient picture of health, heaven knew how with the amount of coffee the woman drank. Her blonde locks were tied up and her fringe was pushed to one side, a whisp falling down the side of her white doctors gown and standing out against the blue of her T-Shirt.

They had barely stepped foot in the medical centre before a small man in blue surgical gloves and a bloody white gown had ran up to the Doctor "Doctor Ziegler! There's been complications with the Jane Doe, large chest trauma, heavy bleeding, she just woke and removed her tracheoctical support and pulled the surgical stitches back out." he rushed through the words, evidently out of breath. Amelie soon found herself running alongside the surprisingly fast doctors who navigated the maze of corridors as if the map was etched on the back of their hands, even after volunteering here ample times since her and Gerard had moved here Amelie still didn't know her way to all of the rooms, they bustled their way into the room where there was a young girl, no older than 14 going into shock and fitting on the examination table her abdomen hidden behind a sea of red. "Anders, I need you to ready 10mg of Midazolam the Doctor remained calm whilst analyzing the situation and giving instructions, she made the act of saving lives look easy. Amelie had always envied her calm and collected aura. "Ame, I need you to steady her down and monitor her responses." The brunette obeyed, quickly putting on gloves and proceeding to wet a flannel. Whilst holding the young girl's head down with one hand she grabbed the assessment kit with the other, fluid hand movements making speedy work of the process. She started by examining the girl's eye movements before moving through the other checks whilst Angela's nimble hands darted between various different tools first clearing the girl's abdomen of the blood and then stitching the chest back up with expert ease. "Obvs results?" the doctor asked, trusting her friend had made light work of it. Amelie read back the list she'd been making. "Anders, I need you to set up a monitored room in the restricted ward ." The other doctor nodded and set off "I'm going to need you to help me get her ready for moving." Angela stated, to most it would sound like her usual collected tone but Amelie knew when Angela was hiding her emotions, their bad-habits were almost identical.  
"Ang, what's bothering you?" Amelie asked in her native tongue knowing it was a language the Doctor was familiar with, and inferring she probably didn't want others to know that something was bothering her, whilst moving a wheeled trolley in position to transport the young girl who was in a drug induced slumber.  
"Nothing. It's just that the restricted ward hardly seems right for a child of her age, but It's the only place that we can restrain her so that she doesn't cause herself further harm." Amelie waited for further clarification, but already knowing what the Swiss was going to say "It's where they used to keep the prisoners of war who needed medical attention. At least that's what they told me, I had my doubts about the true nature of the room, but that was the past. The ward's only used in exceptional circumstances these days, but it just doesn't feel right." Even though their conversation had been entirely in French the now evidently clear waver in the usually decisive Doctor's voice made Amelie certain that several eyes were upon their conversation, irrespective of the language. While she'd often thought about those that had died at the hands of her husband, she'd never considered those that he'd left half-alive. Now wasn't the time for that though she'd decided, she needed to be stoic for her friend, she spoke next in English, cheerfully enough to divert eyes from their conversation.  
"Let me at least clean her up properly first, you grab a biscuit and get a drink and we'll move her in 10. Doctors Orders!" She mimicked with a chuckle.  
"You sound like you've been practising that a little too much" Angela replied with a chuckle whilst shaking her head disapprovingly.

Amelie pulled the curtain around the patient, giving her privacy whilst she cleaned away the remnants of the blood on her abdomen, being careful to avoid unnecessary snagging on the newly placed stitching. She frowned as she'd noticed the soiled bedsheets and went to grab the girl a fresh bed-gown until she felt a small hand wrap weakly around her arm. She whipped her head around and saw the girl struggling to sit upright, her eyes not the cold and determined one's which had ripped out her own stitches, but those of a young girl, fearful and panic-stricken. She moved her arm and instead held the young girls hand in her own and said calmly "I understand you're very confused, my name's Amelie. I'm going to help you," the young girl went to respond "no no no, don't speak, it'll cause you unnecessary pain, just nod if you understand?" she interrupted whilst slowly grabbing the pager in her pocket and buzzing . The girl nodded "I'll get you some water and I'm going to bring my Doctor friend over, we're going to make sure you feel better in no time." the girl looked blankly at the strange woman before her, her face a picture of confusion as Amelie chided herself for not considering that the Girl didn't speak English or French.

"What is it?" the blonde mumbled, her mouth evidently still full of bourbon biscuits coffee still in hand, it had always amused Amelie how the doctor functioned from nothing but coffee and biscuits.  
"She's awake. Afraid and confused, but awake. No sign of psychosis or any dangerous delusions" the volunteer responded as she grabbed a bottle of water from the crate which the doctors had kept on the floor to save them making the trip to the cafe. The pair entered behind the curtain and watched as the girl took account of her body with her hands, gingerly moving her hands across the stitches. Angela began to read the injuries out to the girl in her accented English, but Amelie interrupted explaining that she didn't speak English.  
"Sprichst du Deutsch?" the girl craned her neck and croaked out gently, her voice hoarse from the heavy internal bruising on her esophagus. Angela responded in her native tongue "It'll hurt to talk, so just respond in gestures if possible, ok?" unknowingly echoing what Amelie had said earlier, the girl nodded "Your windpipe is heavily bruised and you contracted a esophigal..." Angela trailed off as she knew she had lost the girl with her medical lingo, something which Amelie had also noticed.  
"Ang" Amelie interrupted "translate for me?" she asked as she picked up the chart reading both the medical and incident report. The Doctor nodded, glad to have her friend here "Some bad people broke into your house. You were very very brave, your throat is going to be sore and your belly will hurt but we're going to make sure you're ok and once you're out of here you're going to have a really cool scar just like mine" she said in an over-exaggerated voice to assure the kid that everything was going to be ok whilst turning and lifting the back of her top up showing a large blemish on her otherwise perfect porcelain skin. Angela continued translating the one-sided conversation in awe of her friend, wondering where she'd picked up her bedside manner from. The doctor had never seen the dancer with children before. Amelie held the little girl's hands and looked into her green eyes as she finished "And we're going to make sure that the very bad men never come back, because you have a heart made of hope! and no-one can ever take that." The young girl smiled and Amelie pulled Angela back outside the curtain, she knew the girl didn't understand much when they spoke, but she didn't want to spook her. "Protocol says that she needs to be moved to the restricted section for at least 24 hours after self-destructive delusions have passed." Angela stated, knowing that Amelie would object.  
"And what does the Doctor say?" Amelie retorted, knowing that she'd get the answer she wanted despite placing her friend in a slight-pickle to explain a bend in the protocol.  
"The Doctor says that with constant monitoring and someone by her side for those 24 hours, the restricted section had a bacterial issue which would rule it unsuitable for use in this specific case." Angela furrowed her brow and shrugged slightly uneased by how easy it was to work around the rules. The blonde had often spent entire nights in the hospital when becoming too engrossed in her work or needing to monitor patients. She'd be thankful for the company for once.

Amelie had pulled back the curtain surrounding the cubicle as she spent the next half hour removing all the unneccessary tubes and wiring from the young girl before asking if she wanted a shower, food and the toilet- each one requiring gestures to overcome the language barrier. The toilet one got a giggle from the young girl and half the doctors whom she hadn't realised were watching as she fake squatted whilst pulling a face.  
"Try some Fibre!" one of the junior doctors jokingly heckled from across the ward, causing the ward to erupt into laughter and the brunette to blush.  
She wheeled the young girl around, making the trip down the long winding corridors to the bathrooms a game as she swerved the wheelchair in a -what Angela would call if she were here- dangerous fashion whilst the child made car noises.

Newly clean Amelie scooted the kid into the canteen, where she once more found Angela with a Bourbon biscuit. Perfect. Amelie knew all too well that she could finish her sentence and dash before Angela could finish the mouthful. "She's hungry, I need you to watch her for 10 minutes while I change her bedsheets? Ok? thanks, bye" and sure enough, Amelie darted off to change the bedsheets. Angela had never seen Amelie like this before, Amelie was usually composed and to most people's eyes cold. Angela had always seen beyond this, their minds largely worked in the same way both liking to maintain control over any situation letting their professionalism spill over into their lives. It was nice to see Ame happy, but Angela realised with a pained heart that there was a lot the two hadn't shared with each other.  
"Sie ist verrückt" the girl hoarsely said with a giggle.  
"She's certainly something" Angela mumbled extending the remainder of the packet over "der Keks? I'll make some...thing to eat" She said, trying to recall how long it had been since she'd made any substantial food. She'd lived off junk food, biscuits and restaurant takeouts. With the amount of nanobots in her body it wasn't really an issue to her.  
The girl took one and hid another one in her pocket watching the doctor as she opened the cupboard and sneakily took one of 's pot-noodles making a mental note to replace it before the other doctor returned from his holiday.

Sure enough after 10 minutes, Amelie had returned with three bottles of lucozade in hand. "You know, when I did part of my Scholarship in England my host family said that Lucozade could cure anything" She muttered excitedly putting giving one to them both.  
"I'm not sure the science agrees with that one..." Angela responded doubt in her voice, she translated it only to "Amelie's magic juice" for the child, to which she looked at the juice in an amazed face. "Ange, can you ask her name for me?" Amelie asked, knowing that the relieved swelling in the throat had probably left the young girl able to talk more easily "Charlotte" the girl primly responded "Chaaahrlotte" Amelie tried to repeat, exaggerating her accent making the little girl giggle "Lottie?" Amelie asked, knowing that friendships were built quicker with nicknames Lottie grinned and nodded. The brunette next pointed to herself and said "Ame", looking to Angela to do the same "Angela, or Ang" she said in turn. Amelie smiled at the doctor, giving her a warm feeling of accomplishment.

It wasn't long before little Charlotte was in bed, fast asleep after what surely must have been a traumatic day for her. True to her word though the Brunette stayed by her side all night, it can't have been until around midnight that the Doctor had finished her rounds and pulled up a chair next to hers. "There's a lot I don't know about you" Angela stated in French making it sound more like a question, using the Dancer's native tongue wanting to make the French-woman feel as comfortable as possible.  
"There's a lot that no-one knows about me. Not that I've tried to hide it, just that no-one really gets close enough to know." She responded, an openness in her voice that Angela had never heard in her voice before, but also a sadness as she realised the truth in the words she was saying.  
"Today, you have proved that you are one of the most incredible people I know." Angela chose her words very carefully, knowing fully that Amelie had often felt hidden in Gerard's shadow "You do not realise it, but the two legs you stand on carry many more people than just you" Angela finished, she knew her French was broken but didn't care, so long as her friend understood the meaning.  
Amelie sniffled slightly but remained wordless, she couldn't quite find the words that she wanted to say in any language. How could Angela Ziegler, a woman who had saved countless lives, who had revolutionised the very way the world works, a woman who she more than admired wholeheartedly think that of her?  
"I would like to know more about you, if you would be willing to share."Angela asked, lifting Amelie's head up gently and brushing a thumb under her watering eye before trying to lighten the mood by shaking her empty lucozade bottle "like this magic juice for example! It could put me out of a job, darn Brits!"

Amelie began to recount her life before she met Gerard, starting with her passion for dance being instilled in her since the age of 4 by her mother, the memory of the first dance competition she'd won at age 6, the national selections, she stopped briefly mentioning the murder of her parents when she was 12, though the brushing past she'd given this signaled to Angela that this was not a subject to push. Despite being flung into the care system at such a delicate age Angela was amazed to hear that Amelie had maintained her dance career and flourished at school, skipping two years and becoming one of the youngest to land a Scholarship.

"The Scholarship was a 4 year Biology course entwined with Dance commitments. 2 years at Paris, 2 years in Liverpool, England. The two years in University in England I spent mostly zoning out at the back of the class, I couldn't understand a word in their mess of an accent, and I already knew the majority of the information from my own research. The Ballet-classes were shorter than my ones in Paris, so I picked up a part time job in a small town near the city in a care-home." She shrugged as if it was the natural thing for a 19 year old to be juggling a part-time job, professional hobby and full time education, which even Angela thought was excessive "at first I never really understood the care-homes, in France they're a lot less prominent, we usually take our elderly in when they can no longer care for themselves. In England they put them in a sort of communal house and visit every so often so that they can continue their day to day lives. Peculiar people the Brits. The nurses there, sure they did their job but they forgot that they were supposed to be carers by name. Someone there to listen and talk, not just cleaners or maids. I loved the stories they would tell, one of them..." she searched her mind for the name "Nigel! Nigel said he'd worked for the British government and" she cleared her throat and mimicked a hoarse scouse accent -poorly- not that Angela would let her know that, evidently too deep in the memory to realise she was still speaking french "Back in my day, I worked to keep your people and the germans on your side of the ocean. Looks like they're slacking these days. Look at them! Sending french spies, to seduce me!" she returned to her own accent "he'd always joke, it scared a lot of the other residents i'd always alternate between calling him Papa Noel or 007, depending on whether his beard was trimmed or not." her face saddened slightly "he died during my second year, at his funeral I'd found out he'd actually been a fisherman, not a secret agent, bet that bastard got a good laugh up there out of that one. I suppose it's not the truth that always matters, it's what people believe" Amelie trailed off on a discussion about the ethics of lying, Angela had never seen her talk about something so passionately. She let the angry babbling french-woman argue herself into a slumber indignantly slouched on her chair head against the hospital bed infront of her and simply draped a blanket over her, placing a kiss on her forehead. A move she quickly chided herself for, putting the emotional slip down to tiredness and her emotions getting blurred but she knew it was the sign of something more. Something that she couldn't let happen again.

Five hours had passed and the Frenchwoman groggily awoke to the world, this must have been the first time in a fortnight she had slept through without a nightmare. Angela appeared next to her offering her a cup of coffee "Do doctors ever sleep?" she asked, curious as to Angela's secret.  
"I sleep polyphasically, 30 minute sleep sessions 4 times a day, maximises daytime efficiency" She shrugged "but if you tell anyone I actually sleep I will find you and I will kill you" she joked, mimicking the film that Amelie had made them watch last time Gerard was away. Taken, god she'd thought Neeson's acting was stiff as a board but Amelie was so into it she didn't have the heart to pull the plot apart. "Besides, if I babbled in my sleep like you do and leave a drool puddle like that I'd never sleep!" she prodded jokingly.  
"Hey, I don't babble." Amelie retorted quickly, knowing she couldn't deny the drool puddle "if I babble then prove it, what did I say"  
Angela took a sip of her coffee and held up a finger to gesture just a second fully knowing she had the upper hand, before pulling out her phone from her doctor's robe, unlocking it and gliding over to the videos section.  
There it was, undeniable evidence of her babbling...  
"If there were no money in the world, then why couldn't there be any bacon?" the 7 second video asked. A question which had obviously perplexed her in her sleep, as she pulled facial expressions through closed eyes.

"Well, I'm glad I ask the real questions. Someone's gotta" If it was anyone else that had taken the video Amelie was fairly certain they'd have regretted it immediately, but this wasn't anyone, this was Angela. Amelie had never felt this sort of comfort around anyone else, not even Gerard.  
"I believe you owe me another pack of biscuits." the doctor announced proudly, shaking her phone in the air as a threat  
"Fine."

Amelie's mind wandered as she strolled down to the Cafe's shop, idle wanderings mostly. About the past, about the present. About the future. Little Lottie had only about 4 more hours of observation left, that was great, she'd have to stay in the hospital for a while longer to ensure no further complications but what would happen to her after she was discharged? did she even still have parents? The incident report was vague, and no parents were mentioned. She'd hoped that Lottie didn't have to go in the same system that she did. Her mind next wandered to the ballet tickets attached to the fridge. Was it wrong to take the tickets from your husband to ask your girlcrush to a ballet? Woah. Rewind, that was not a thought that should have crossed her mind. Let's start again. Of course it's ok to ask your best friend to the ballet with you. Totally fine. Her mind was so taken aback by the trail her thoughts had lead her on, that she'd almost forgotten to open the door in front of her and chided herself for making an ass of herself so much in front of Angela's colleagues, they were sure to end up thinking she was a patient.

Amelie had gotten halfway through muttering something about 2 euros for a packet of biscuits being extortionate to the cashier before she was interrupted by a an alarm whirring, she dropped both the money and the biscuits and immediately ran towards the ward Angela and Lottie were on, not knowing what to expect when she burst through the door and stood frozen in horror at the scene before her, all of the ward's windows were smashed in, from what she could notice two of the doctors and three of the patients were missing. She was oddly thankful to see Angela on the floor, she had minor lacerations to her forearms and a shard of glass in her back, but she was here and she was alive.

Amelie immediately dashed over to her friend, she'd noticed the absence of Lottie but she couldn't leave Angela in the state of shock she was in. An Overwatch detachment had arrived almost immediately, Amelie had questions to ask as to firstly why Jack was here and not in Tel Aviv with Gerard, and secondly as to why if he was here he wasn't chasing after whomever had taken Lottie and the others but she'd decided those were best to wait until Angela's wounds had been dressed and she'd recovered enough from the shock to answer questions. She'd said little and Ame knew well enough to wait until she was ready to speak so she wordlessly dressed the wounds and gave her a glass of water.

"Where are the others? Where's Charlotte?" She asked, her voice almost robotic.  
"I'm not sure, they could be with the detachment answering questions" Amelie lied, hoping Angela was too dazed to pick up on it.  
"I suppose it's not always the truth that matters..." Angela muttered, angered slightly at not being told the truth.

Amelie took the prod wordlessly, she'd probably deserved that one. The quote brought back to Amelie's mind her conversation with Charlotte, the false promises she made and guilt wrapped around her heart.  
"We're going to need to speak to you and ask some questions, Mercy" Commander Morrison interrupted the private silence. Angela didn't move from her position, she was replaying the events in her mind and knew that if you didn't replay the events immediately detail would be lost.

Amelie decided that she had to push her guilt back until a more private moment arose, she couldn't burden Angela with anything more, as she looked in her friends eyes again she understood the situation and put herself between the Commander and the Doctor, before pulling his shoulder to lead him to the doorway for a private conversation. It is unlikely that Jack would accept this sort of approach from anyone else, but Amelie had built up a careful facade, concerned army-wife not to be messed with by anyone while her husband was away, it was not one she needed but it was a facade which served her needs when it came to Overwatch dealings. "She is not ready for questions. She is not the only one that saw what went on, yet she is the only one experiencing symptoms of shock and with injuries from what went on here. You can gather ample information from the others, there are even cameras accessible from the security office. As someone who has volunteered in your hospitals and seen several cases of shock first hand my opinion is that you should grant her 3 days leave with immediate effect and that you should make finding those doctors and patients, especially that little girl who is only 12 years old Jack, your main concern. Not to mention that you should keep me updated on the well being of that 12 year old girl who I have spent the past 24 hours caring for like she was my own goddamn child, Jack." Amelie commanded, fearful of the assertion in her own voice. "Now, I'm not going to ask why it is that you're not in Tel-Aviv, or why it is that my husband is there in your stead but I do think that we cherish eachothers opinions. Just like I cherish your opinion that sharing what happened in Macedonia would not be in our best interests" She wasn't a fan of blackmail, but it was a means to an end and Jack Morrison was not a man she'd ever cared for despite the closeness between him and her husband.

Morrison must have towered her by a foot and a half and despite his idle threats he by no means had the upper hand "You're like a spider weaving your web, it would be your undoing if you mistake me for a fly" he husked, adamant for the last word as he spun on his heels and walked away.

"Step into my parlour." She muttered in her native tongue as he watched him walk away, mutter something to the blonde, and barge his way past the frenchwoman as he made his way, presumably to the security centre whilst the rest of the detachment questioned the other doctors.


End file.
